


light in the darkness

by yodalorian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, F/M, Sharing a Bed, a little sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28316541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodalorian/pseuds/yodalorian
Summary: Harry and Hermione share a quiet moment in the Forest of Dean.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32
Collections: Gifts for Friends





	light in the darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [not_miranda104](https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_miranda104/gifts).



> for randy :)
> 
> sorry that this is on the shorter side
> 
> but i think writing this made me ship them

Harry stepped out of the tent. Another unfamiliar place. Another place to hide, and then leave behind.

Hermione was sitting at the base of a gnarled tree nearby. He sat down next to her. “Where are we?”

“Forest of Dean. Came here once with Mum and Dad. Years ago.” She looked around at the pale dusting of snow across everything, the stark black trees against the white sky. “It’s just how I remember it. The trees, the river. Everything. Like nothing’s changed. Not true, of course. Everything’s changed.”

She was right. Here, where the only sounds were the wind rustling through the branches and the faint hooting of an owl in the distance, it was easy to believe that everything was okay. There was no war, no Death Eaters, no Voldemort. No one was hiding around the next corner, waiting to kill them. Harry took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs. 

Hermione shook her head sadly. “If I brought my parents back here now, they probably wouldn't recognize any of it. Not the trees, or the river. Not even me.” Harry looked at her, and it struck him just how much Hermione had sacrificed too. Now she had lost her parents too, given them a new life where they didn’t have a daughter. He wondered whether it was even more painful for her than for him, to wipe yourself from your family and make it so the people that lived you most didn’t even recognize you.

Hermione pulled her coat tighter around herself. “Maybe we should just stay here, Harry. Grow old.” She laughed like it was a joke, but he could hear the note of longing in her voice.

“Maybe we should.” Harry couldn’t deny that he’d thought about it. He was tired of nearly dying every day, never knowing who he could trust, always fearing those blood red eyes peering into his mind. He’d never asked for this, to be marked by a scar before he could even walk, to be the Chosen One or whatever nonsense Dumbledore and cobwebbed prophecies could spin up. 

Not Hermione, though. She was like him, raised by Muggles, a little baffled by magic despite all the books she’s read. She didn’t look at him and expect him to be a mythical Boy Who Lived that wizards told stories about to their children at bedtime. To her, he could just be Harry.

Hermione drew in a shaky breath and wiped frozen tears from her eyelashes. Harry opened his arms. “Come on. For warmth.”

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. “You know I know at least six different charms that could warm us up much faster?”

“Yeah, but I like the old-fashioned way.” Harry embraced her tightly, feeling her heart beat against his own. He felt her chest rise and fall with each fluttering breath.

What if they did? Just….stay here. It was hard to imagine that anyone could find them here in the wilderness. He thought about burying their wands in the frozen ground, building a small, warm cottage. The rest of the world could burn. Everyone else had left them, hadn’t they? As long as they were safe. As long as he still had Hermione.

They sat there silently for a while in the bitter cold, forgetting about Horcruxes and Dark Lords. Harry draped his coat over both of them like a blanket, and for a moment neither of them felt the freezing wind. Still, Hermione eventually stirred. “We’re running out of time. We...we need to keep—“

“Can’t we take a break?” Harry murmured. “Just for tonight?”

She looked at him, her eyes worried. “I don’t know…”

“Come on. Even at Hogwarts, you were always preparing, always working. And you’re brilliant for that; I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. But it’s okay to relax.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Relax while we’re running for our lives?”

Harry shrugged. “No better time.”

“What would we do tonight, then?”

He took her cold hand and helped her up. “I might have an idea.”

He led her into their tent and grabbed their busted handheld radio, spinning the dial. Some Muggle singer’s warbling filled the space, crooning about the one that got away. One of those ridiculously over dramatic songs that Aunt Petunia loved and Harry hated. But now, it was exactly the kind of stupid laugh Harry needed.

He took Hermione’s hands and swayed to the music. She snorted, but followed his lead. Around their lone flickering lamp, they danced and twirled and glided, until Hermione was openly laughing. That was all Harry needed to warm his heart, there in the dead of December. A smile from her was enough.

They danced until the sun faded and stars filled the clear sky. They moved in unison, hearts beating as one, like this was always meant to be. At some point, Harry’s lips tasted Hermione’s. It felt unremarkable because it felt so natural. It was something they should’ve done a long time ago, something they perhaps had been doing for a long time already, if only in dreams.

Hours later, Hermione laid nestled in Harry’s arms in bed. The night was too cold and lonely to sleep in separate bunks. He ran his fingers through her curls as she slept and kissed her forehead softly. Her lips curved upward into a small smile, and Harry wondered what she was dreaming about. A little selfishly, he hoped it was about himself. He would certainly be dreaming about her.

In the midst of war and darkness and everything Voldemort had stolen and threatened to steal from Harry, this moment itself was protest. A declaration that love and something good still existed in the world. A lone, flickering flame to keep the darkness at bay.

_ Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light. _

Harry had found his light. He wasn’t ever going to let it go.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jedioncer?lang=en)  
> to hear me yell about other dumb things


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